


Colors

by ackles_likes_snackles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Based on a Tumblr Post, Brothers, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Color Blindness, Colors, Constellations, Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Are Brothers, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Happy Ending, Headcanon, Impala, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Sad Castiel, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sunsets, There's A Tag For That, idek it's not really sad but I'm tagging that, why is there a tag for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:51:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5558570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_likes_snackles/pseuds/ackles_likes_snackles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angels can't see colors the way humans can. Their vision is similar to that of inverted colors and infrared. While it answers the question of their superior eyesight, it’s not nearly as pretty as what humans see.<br/>A recently de-winged Castiel longs to see the way humans do and to know the colors of a beautiful sunset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this post](http://ackles-likes-snackles.tumblr.com/post/136050890331/darthkawaii42-castiel-for-king-headcanon).

“Man, the sunset is really beautiful tonight, huh?” Sam commented quietly to the others in the car. The radio was turned on low, murmuring softly in the background along with the droning hum of the Impala’s motor, which vibrated underneath their feet. Dean snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of his brother’s voice. He glanced at Sam before leaning forward to squint up at the brightly colored sky through the windshield, a grunt and a nod following as a gesture of agreement. 

“The mixture of all the oranges and reds and yellows is incredible,” Sam continued in awe. His arm rested comfortably on the window ledge and he was leaned back in his seat with his long legs stretched out, gazing out the window of the Impala, a hint of a smile on his lips. He felt particularly relaxed in this moment. All his cares seemed to melt away with the sinking sun. While it was a rare feeling, he didn’t dare question it. He wanted to enjoy this feeling while it lasted, to just take in the stunning view and to be amazed by all the world’s creations. 

Dean looked to his left out the window for a different angle of the view that had Sam so entranced. He hummed low in response to Sam, just so he wouldn’t think he was being ignored. Having that fight with his brother about thinking he was purposely disregarding him never turned out pretty. In truth, Dean sort of liked it when Sam filled these silences. Well...most of the time, anyway. The long drives wore on him. Even though he loved being close with his baby, he was still only human, you know. The late-night driving and the long silences wore him out. Probably more than he’d ever care to admit, but they did. He’d often get sucked into a loop of his own thoughts when it was too quiet, and _that_ made him even more miserable. 

He glanced up at the sky now and then as Sam narrated some fruity description of the blend of colors. He had to admit, he did appreciate a good sunset when he saw one. And tonight was no exception. Personally, he liked watching the stars more, but maybe that was just him. 

Dean flicked his eyes up to the rearview mirror, noticing Cas looking out a side window with a curious expression on his face. “Hey, Cas, buddy you okay? Pretty quiet back there,” he piped up in between one of Sam’s little ramblings. 

Several moments passed before Cas responded low and soft, still unable to tear his eyes away from looking out the window at the passing landscape as he asked, “What do all those colors look like?”

The brothers in the front seat exchanged a confused glance. Sam turned in his seat, looking at the angel in the backseat. “Cas, what?”

Castiel flicked his eyes to Sam, narrowing them in further confusion and sincere wonderment, “All those colors you described - the oranges, the reds, the yellows - what do they _look_ like?”

“O-Oh, uh- hmmf,” Sam muttered clumsily, fairly taken aback by what the angel was asking. He turned to Dean, who wore the same surprised expression. Sam frowned and shrugged, at a loss of where to even begin. 

Dean jumped in, his eyes flicking back and forth between the road ahead of him and the rearview mirror holding the reflection of the angel behind him.“You mean to tell us that angels are color blind? _Freakin’ color blind?_ Man, your dad has a sick sense of humor, you know that? I mean, purposely making angels color blind and us humans...well, _not._ ” He scoffed disgustedly just thinking about God. Of all the low things that guy had already done…

“Not color blind, Dean,” Cas countered calmly. “More along the lines of having infrared vision.” Cas turned to gaze out the window again as he continued, “My perception of color is different than that of yours. My vision is inverted so as to be a particularly heightened sense.”

“Really?” Sam turned and flopped an elbow over his seat to be more face-to-face with the angel. “I never knew that, how come you never told us?”

“It never came up until now,” Cas responded flatly, a heavy silence filling the air soon after. 

Dean glanced up at the rearview mirror again, noticing the look on Cas’s face. He looked almost... _sad._ Like he was sad that he couldn’t see colors the same way they could. Like he really wanted to see what Sam was talking about for himself. “Huh,” was all that Dean could manage to huff out as he lost himself in his thoughts once again; only this time it was over this new discovery instead of whatever troubling crisis he was having to deal with. Thoughts swam around in his mind, but Dean honestly didn’t really know what to think of all this. The things a guy learns when having a freakin’ _angel_ as a travel companion. 

The three drove on through the night, the topic having been left alone after that. The silence was particularly uncomfortable for a while, neither of the brothers really knowing what to say. The jarring confusion and uncertainty seemed to hang in the air like a bad smell. Should they comfort Cas? Ask questions? Be more interested? Forget the whole thing? 

Sam seemed to simply let it be. It was like he didn’t forget the conversation, but he never brought it up either. He didn’t seemed bothered by it at all, really. Dean, on the other hand, was _very_ bothered. He was even bothered that Sam didn’t seem bothered.

____

It ate ate Dean for _weeks_ before he said anything. He watched Cas closely, constantly worrying about him. An angel having recently lost his wings was probably no cake-walk of an adjustment to deal with, and now it almost seemed like something else had been taken away from him. Except it wasn’t even something he had to begin with. But he seemed to long for it anyway, to see the way humans could. Dean could only imagine what Cas must have felt. No wings. No connection to Heaven. Betrayed by his own siblings. He wasn’t an angel, not much of one these days, anyway. Yet, he wasn’t human either. Talk about an identity crisis.

____

Dean pulled Sam aside one night after a particular hunt involving a few demons and a hellhound. He had sent Cas out on a beer run to be sure that he’d be out of earshot for a while. By now, the angel had learned not to question the older Winchester about the excessive consumption of alcohol, especially after a hunt. A simple nod and a gravelly “Of course, Dean,” followed the request.

“Listen, Sammy, I think we need to talk about Cas,” Dean started hesitantly as he lowered himself down onto the motel bed with a soft _squeak._

Sam sat across from his brother, their knees nearly touching in the cramped space. His brow knit together with concern, “What about? You think there’s something wrong?” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs.

Dean sighed and wiped a bruised and bloodied hand down his face. “Not wrong, just- not right either, I don’t know.” 

“Dean, what’re you getting at?” Sam pressed.

Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Dean tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “Remember that conversation we had with him a few weeks back?” He lowered his head to look at his brother now. “The one about colors and how angels couldn’t see them and stuff?” 

Sam shrugged, “Sure. Cas told us angels have infrared or inverted vision or something like that, and that’s why he can’t see colors like we do.”

“Exactly,” Dean gestured with his hand in confirmation.

Sam leaned back a little, shifting his weight on the bed. “Why?”

“Well, I just. I worry about the guy, you know,” Dean shrugged awkwardly, almost embarrassed by his own words.

Sam huffed a laugh. “Why, because he can’t see colors? I think we have bigger things to worry about than that, Dean.”

“No, I mean,” Dean stood to pace the small room, starting to feel anxious. He was never good with this kind of thing. _Talking_ about stuff. Give him a .45 and a blade and he’s good to go. But talking...that’s a whole other fight. “I just mean he’s been acting a little different since then.” He stopped pacing a moment to face Sam. “I think he feels like he’s missing out on something.”

Sam frowned, “Well, what can we do, Dean? I mean, that’s the way angels _are,_ how’re we supposed to help Cas see differently?”

“I don’t know,” Dean threw his hands up in the air, the whole ordeal seeming completely ridiculous now. 

Sam sat a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Dean had his arms crossed and was studying the stained, motel carpet when Sam brought him back to the present. “Hey, do you have those glasses we used on the hellhound tonight?”

Dean tipped his head in the direction of his bag, “In the pack. Why?”

“Well I was just thinking,” Sam started as he crossed the room to dig in the weapons bag. After a moment of searching, he pulled out a pair of thick, black frames and held them up. “These allow us to see things we normally can’t, right? Maybe it’ll work for Cas, too.” He crossed back over to stand in front of Dean, looking over the glasses as his older brother stared up at him through his eyelashes. “You know, let him see things in a way he normally can’t.”

“And you really think that’ll work?” Dean replied, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Sam shrugged, “Can’t hurt to try, right? Holy fire seems to work in tons of different ways - trapping angels, turning invisible demon dogs visible…”

“You know, we should really market and sell these things to other hunters. We could make a fortune,” Dean smirked as he took the frames from Sam.

Sam scoffed, “Right. Because that’s just the thing we need to do: become door-to-door salesmen.”

“Y’always wanted an honest living,” Dean drawled with a cocky grin spread across his face.

____

The next night after a meal in a small-town diner, the brothers and the angel drove down to a clearing that overlooked a valley. The sky was clear, and the air was crisp and cool. They leaned against the hood of the Impala, a cooler of beer to keep them company just as the sun began to set behind the hills.

“Here, Cas. I’ve got something for you,” Sam mumbled as he pulled a pair of thick, black flames from of his jacket pocket.

Cas squinted up at Sam, “What’s that?”

“Just try them on,” Sam replied with a soft smile as he slid the frames onto the angel’s nose. 

Dean watched closely, his hands shoved into pockets, “Do things look any different, Cas?”

Cas didn’t seem capable of answering. His eyes widened behind the frames and his mouth hung open. His eyes flickered this way and that, seeming to take in everything before him in an entirely new way. They landed on the dirt and dry grass under his feet, slowly dragged up a gnarled tree growing near a lone, deserted picnic table covered in paint chips and moss, dropped down into the valley where the shimmering lake reflected a silhouette of the hills and trees, and finally slid up to the sky where the sun continued to sink down past those distant hills and trees, leaving streaks of vibrant, warm colors in its wake. 

Dean knew Cas saw the way they did now and couldn’t help the grin from spreading across his face, huffing a laugh when Cas reached up to push the glasses further up the bridge of his nose. The soft, little sound drew Cas’s attention and the laugh caught in Dean’s throat as the angel turned his wide, ocean-blue eyes on him. 

Castiel blinked slowly, a corner of his full lips curling up into an awestruck smile as he stared into Dean’s eyes. He reached up with one hand to gently hover underneath Dean’s eye, unable to stop the impulsive move.

Dean could feel the finger pads flutter over the skin just below his eye. He blinked and widened his gaze slightly down at Cas.

“Green,” the angel whispered in awe. “Your eyes are _green._ ” A smile tugged further at Cas’s plush lips as his eyes flickered from one bright and clear, forest-green eye to the other.

Dean flushed pink, the freckles dusted across his face darkening in contrast. He could feel Cas’s fingers gently swoop over his eyelashes. He blinked lazily and smiled at the ticklish sensation, never taking his eyes from Cas’s.

The angel’s mouth hung open in that sweet, little, half-smile as he lost himself in shades of green and flecks of gold. He moved his hand to hold the side of Dean’s face, his fingertips tucked into the little hairs behind his ear. Dean leaned into the touch as if he had always longed for it, his brow knitting together in expression of want for the affection he had been deprived of.

“ _Beautiful,_ ” Castiel whispered intently. Dean’s eyelids fluttered shut at the soft sound of the angel’s voice and the gentle touch of his hand. He felt Cas press his lips to the corner of one of his eyes, the skin so thin and sensitive there. He urged his eyes back open to find Cas still gazing up at him, studying him, as if he were memorizing every line, every blemish, and every color. 

Dean swallowed and reached up to cup Castiel’s cheek in one hand, smoothing a thumb over the swoopy line underneath his eye. “Blue,” he whispered as a smile pulled at the corners of his parted lips. “Your eyes are _blue._ ”

Cas’s eyes sparkled at the hunter’s words and he moved his hand to his own face to flutter over the skin just under his eye. “Blue?” 

“Like the ocean,” Dean replied, never having been more sure of himself. 

Cas repeated Dean’s words, as if he wanted to memorize them, “ _Blue like the ocean…_ ”

____

Castiel never took the glasses off after that. Or, at least he didn’t _want_ to. He just had to adjust to wearing a foreign object on his face, that was all. He went through several pairs before realizing they break easier than one would think and ended up learning the hard way that they actually distracted him during hunts. Dean finally told him he wasn’t allowed to wear them on hunts anymore.

But he liked wearing them every chance he got. He smiled a lot more with them on. He looked at everything in a whole new way now. He rediscovered everything, and it made him so _happy._ Everything was new and bright and exciting and just so _colorful._

Dean thought it was cute the way Cas loved to go exploring outside and tell him all the names of the insects he found, later murmuring the distinct colors and patterns on their bodies to himself. He even told Cas that he looked cute with the glasses on, which made the angel blush. But it was only fair since Cas made Dean blush everyday by reminding him how beautiful his _green_ eyes were. 

And sunsets. Sunsets became a new tradition. The three boys would park the Impala out in a clearing somewhere and sit on the hood to watch the sun sink below the horizon. Dean and Cas made their own tradition of watching the stars after Sam would fall asleep in the back seat. Dean would hold Castiel close as the angel named all the constellations.

____

“So Cas,” Dean started one night as he squeezed the angel's waist. It was dark, the only light coming from the illuminated moon. They’d been sitting, looking up at the stars for hours now, and Cas had just finished the story of Orion’s belt. “Now that you’ve been able to see colors for a while, which is your favorite?”

Cas narrowed his eyes in confusion, “My favorite?”

“Well yeah, Cas, everybody’s got a favorite color,” Dean’s lips pulled into a grin as he smoothed a warm hand up and down Castiel's back. “What’s yours?”

How could he possibly favor one color over all the others? There were so many, and they were all so nice and brought him so much joy. Cas thought a moment, face stern with concentration. It took several seconds of intense thought before he lit up, a bright smile spreading across his face. He reached out to flutter the soft pads of his fingers over the sensitive skin under Dean’s eye, just like he had for the first time several months ago. 

“Green,” Castiel whispered before pressing a kiss to the little spot his fingers had just been. “My favorite color is _green._ ”


End file.
